


"Sing for us the Songs of Zion"

by noyade



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: Body Modification, Gross, Guro, Horror, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutilation, Rape, Torture, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noyade/pseuds/noyade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kirei grabs Kiritsugu after the end of the 4th war, and it goes about the way you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Sing for us the Songs of Zion"

**Author's Note:**

> It's just torture porn, literally, with absolutely no literary value. I can't really in good faith recommend that anyone read it. Not that i'm saying you're sick if you do, and I'm pretty sure some people will get enjoyment out of it, but seriously, it's just really shameless guro/rape, and if that isn't your thing you should probably avoid this.
> 
> Title is from Psalm 137.

The first time he takes Emiya Kiritsugu --

 

  
He lays him out on the altar. He does not remember it well - he looked down and saw Kiritsugu looking up at him, grief-stricken and horrified and angry, and his eyes (the pupils contracted so that you could see the iris, the charcoal-gray, the spidery lines of capillaries in the sclera - he was so close he could see it, see the sheen of sweat on his brow, smell smoke and gunpowder, the sound of his breath, and Kiritsugu was no longer an idea but a body, and Kirei wanted it) lined with tears and it was - he had gone into a frenzy then, it was madness, but he remembers dislocating Kiritsugu's hip, pulling it out of the joint and then fucking him while he whimpered and cried out in a sweet voice, fucking him hard with his mind in a fog.

He had known sex, of course, but not like this. Not like this. Not the fumbling attempts of his youth (he had wanted so badly to like it), not the dutiful slow sex of his marriage, not even the languid indulgent fucking with Gilgamesh. Nothing was like this. It was still all too fresh (he had snatched Kiritsugu up from the burning field the evening before) - the fire, the realization, the image of Kiritsugu with his hands around the pale throat of the woman he loved. That was what had finished Kirei, that thought. He put his own hands to Kiritsugu's neck and pressed down and came until he was empty. And collapsed.

This is not the way it usually is, though. Kirei can control himself, and does. After that first time, it was all very deliberate, which is how Kirei liked things to be.

 

Kiritsugu is important, after all, and it doesn't do to waste him --

 

He cuts out his tongue first. He doesn't mind hearing Kiritsugu's voice, but without the tongue his cries sound broken, incoherent, and the sound is pleasing. And kissing him is more exciting as well now, probing at the wet wriggling stump with his own tongue. Sometimes, when the mood hits him, he'll put two fingers in Kiritsugu's mouth and just touch him, tracing the gums, the teeth, the inside of the cheeks, the little scar where he had sewn the stub of Kiritsugu's tongue. Then he'll press his fingertips to the back of Kiritsugu's throat and feel the muscle contract and hear the sounds of gagging, and it's all so enchanting that Kirei will lose track of time and suddenly it will be evening and he will smile indulgently at Kiritsugu and kiss him over and over.

The hands - it was a hard decision one he thinks over for days, fantasizes about, but in the end he takes the fingers down to the first knuckle. There is something about the helplessness that is charming, the fingers not quite long enough to grip anything properly. While the wounds are still healing - he does them all in one sitting - he meshes his fingers with Kiritsugu's and examines the flushed skin, the swelling and tenderness. He brings them to his lips and flicks at the stiches with his tongue and Kiritsugu makes a soft noise, strange without his tongue, and Kirei falls upon him, can't help himself.

 

The first few weeks are like this. He learns Kiritsugu's body, finds the parts of it that he likes, and the parts he doesn't like. The latter can always be changed, of course. But somehow there doesn't seem to be much about Kiritsugu that he dislikes, in the end.

It's all right, though. He says to Kiritsugu, in the darkness. There's always room for improvement --

 

The suicide attempts are numerous, but Kirei knows how to keep a man alive. Still, Kiritsugu is so very determined. One day Kirei returns to the room where he has kept Kiritsugu and finds him in the corner with a flap of rug peeled up, trying with his teeth and his useless fingers to pry up a nail from the floor below. Kirei laughs and picks him up like a child, scolding him gently. Are you trying to escape your punishment, he asks. Do you not think you deserve this? Of course Kiritsugu cannot answer, save to lash out in frustration. His struggles do not last for long, of course. When Kirei is finished he leaves Kiritsugu on the floor, bleeding and covered in come and sweat and tears.

Still, he knows that Kiritsugu requires certain things to sustain him. He gives Kiritsugu a soft bed and good food, and cigarettes as well - though he insists on being the one to light them, for obvious reasons. Supplements to keep his health up, so that he does not collapse altogether. Kirei has drugs to calm his nerves, to let him sleep and eat without his body rebelling - some, even, to give him pleasure. It's strange, but this too has an appeal. Gilgamesh finds him a bottle of pills which, when taken, cause Kiritsugu to crawl into Kirei's lap and rub against him feverishly, like a cat in heat. Kirei is too fascinated to do him any harm. He strokes Kiritsugu's face and kisses him and watches him writhe, amused and affectionate. I choked your wife to death, he thinks as he squeezes Kiritsugu's dick and listens to him mewling like an animal. I crushed her throat and it made a wet snap and it felt good. I would do the same to your daughter if I had her here, just to see your face.

The drugs help. But the most important thing is positive reinforcement. He reminds Kiritsugu, constantly, that this is good, because he absolutely, unequivocally deserves this. You remember, don't you? What you did to your wife? To your child? I was there with you, in the grail. I saw your heart turned inside out. You are such a monster, Emiya Kiritsugu. Do you know, I would have laid down my life without hesitation if for just one moment I could have felt love for my wife. I really mean that. There is nothing that I would not have done in order to be able to feel the slightest bit of it. That most sacred and valuable thing, that love - how many times have you discarded it. How many times have you spat in its face, told it that it was insufficient, betrayed it. You, who loved your wife, killed her with your own hands. You killed that love. I, who could not love my wife, who wished with every fiber of my being to kill her, did not. Do you understand, Emiya Kiritsugu. Do you understand why it has to be me, why I have to be the one to deliver this punishment to you. It's because I have needed, more than anything, what you have had and thrown away like it was garbage.

 

  
Do not ever forget that you deserve this. You, who foolishly said you would bear the weight of all the evil in the world. If that is the case, then will you not embrace this as your rightful punishment? Will you not --

 

He keeps thinking that he'll bore of Kiritsugu soon, surely, but he never seems to. There is always more to do. A human body is large, and there are many places a man can leave his mark, if he wants. He finds himself, for the first time in his life, indulging in the pleasure of creativity. There is so much you can do with a body as a canvas. He starts small, with a scalpel, which he uses to cut little patterns over Kiritsugu's skin. Little incisions in neat rows, at first, but soon the rows begin to turn, like the swirling patterns of Van Gogh. Kirei had studied art history as a child in school, dutifully, but it had never meant anything to him. He had never seen the beauty in art until this moment, seeing Kiritsugu's flesh bloom beneath his fingers. Soon Kiritsugu's arms are like an impressionist painting, rough to the touch and abstract and strange under Kirei's tongue.

It doesn't end there, of course. Weeks pass, then months. He studies Kiritsugu's body obsessively, makes his plans. He purchases a length of steel rope, as thin as a shoelace and bendable but strong . He toys with it for a while, ties Kiritsugu with it tightly and unwinds it to see the indents in his skin, but he has real plans for it, and eventually he sees it done. He has to starve Kiritsugu for a week or so to loosen his skin enough, of course. But soon it's ready, and Kirei can wait no longer. He bores a pattern of holes into Kiritsugu's back, through the skin, and weaves the rope back and forth, like stringing a corset. From the top of his shoulders to the small of his back in a tight overlapping pattern. He pulls it tight until the skin is stretched and distorted, and heals the bleeding holes with his hand. Looks over his work, feels it, tastes it.

There are a thousand ways to leave marks, he finds. Heated metal he enjoys particularly, for the way Kiritsugu reacts to the smell of seared flesh. With a hot poker he traces on Kiritsugu's skin the image of an elaborate cross. He is still a Christian, after all, and the cross, that instrument of torture and death, has always been his favorite - when he was very young and they learned about the passion, about Christ's skin flayed from whipping - it was the first time Kirei had ever felt that stirring in his loins, the first inklings of sexual desire. There is a certain blasphemous thrill in coiling barbed wire around Kiritsugu's forehead and licking the blood from his face. How many times had he, as a child, had that dream about the face of God as He died in agony?

 

  
I wish you could see yourself, he tells Kiritsugu. You're so beautiful. You're so --

 

Kirei is skilled at taking care of the ill and infirm. His own wife had been dying, after all, when he married her. He is capable of being terribly gentle when he wishes, and sometimes he is this way with Kiritsugu. Bathing him (he will not leave Kiritsugu alone with water, lest he drowns himself), feeding him, helping him dress himself. Kiritsugu, who becomes increasingly docile as time goes on, begins to remind Kirei of his wife. On a whim, he pierces Kiritsugu's ears and fits him with his wife's old earrings, little gold crosses. The solid gold rosary he bought he as a gift he places on Kiritsugu's neck. He is confident now, at least, that Kiritsugu will make no attempt to break it. He has been so obedient lately, almost eager. Kirei can see in his eyes a little needy spark whenever he touches him with affection. He does try to hide it. He looks at Kirei with loathing or with apathy for as long as he can stand to, but when Kirei holds him close on cold nights, running his fingers over Kiritsugu's scarred body, he can see - pleasure, warmth, relief at being touched by another person.

Kirei does not begrudge him this indulgence. He cannot hate Kiritsugu anymore, not really. Kiritsugu has given him such pleasure, after all. And there is so much more to do with him. They are only just beginning.

The image of Kiritsugu emaciated - Kirei is always imagining Kiritsugu in new ways - with his rubs protruding grotesquely (like Christ upon the cross) is so appealing that Kirei decides he will have him this way. He cuts Kiritsugu down to one meal a day, though he continues to give him supplements, to keep his health somewhat stable. Kiritsugu, with no tongue and useless hands, eats like a dog, pressing his face to the ground while Kirei strokes his hair, encouraging. Sometimes he will feed Kiritsugu out of his hand, let him lick the food off his palm or take it from between his fingers. Always there is a light flush of humiliation, but he is so hungry, and he knows what Kirei will do if he resists.

 

When he is finished, Kirei kisses him softly and reminds him that this is no more than what he deserves --


End file.
